Anthony Boucher by The Compleat Werewolf

Anthony Boucher by The Compleat Werewolf

Author:The Compleat Werewolf
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-02-02T15:01:51+00:00


“But what can I do?” Wolf moaned into his zombie glass. “I’m stuck. I’m stymied. Gloria arrives in Berkeley tomorrow, and here I am—nothing. Nothing but a fu-tile, worthless werewolf.

You can’t support a wife on that. You can’t raise a family. You can’t—Hell, you can’t even propose…I want another. Sure you won’t have one?”

Ozymandias the Great shook his round, fringed head. “The last time I took two drinks I started all this. I’ve got to behave if I want to stop it. But you’re an able-bodied, strapping young man; surely, colleague, you can get work?”

“Where? All I’m trained for is academic work, and this scandal has put the kibosh on that forever. What university is going to hire a man who showed up naked in front of his class without even the excuse of being drunk? And suppos-ing I try something else—say one of these jobs in defense that all my students seem to be getting—I’d have to give references, say something about what I’d been doing with my thirty-odd years. And once these references were checked—Ozzy, I’m a lost man.”

“Never despair, colleague. I’ve learned that magic gets you into some tight squeezes, but there’s always a way of getting out. Now, take that time in Darjeeling—”

“But what can I do? I’ll wind up like Confucius the werechow and live off charity, if you’ll find me somebody who wants a pet wolf.”

“You know,” Ozymandias reflected, “you may have something there, colleague.”

“Nuts! That was a joke. I can at least retain my self-respect, even if I go on relief doing it. And I’ll bet they don’t like naked men on relief, either.”

“No. I don’t mean just being a pet wolf. But look at it this way: What are your assets? You have only two outstanding abilities. One of them is to teach German, and that is now completely out.”

“Check.”

“And the other is to change yourself into a wolf. All right, colleague. There must be some commercial possibilities in that. Let’s look into them.”

“Nonsense.”

“Not quite. For every kind of merchandise there’s a market. The trick is to find it. And you, colleague, are going to be the first practical commercial werewolf on record.”

“I could—They say Ripley’s Odditorium pays good money. Supposing I changed six times a day regular for delighted audiences?”

Ozymandias shook his head sorrowfully. “It’s no good. People don’t want to see real magic. It makes ‘em uncomfortable—starts ‘em wondering what else might be loose in the world. They’ve got to feel sure it’s all done with mirrors. I know. I had to quit vaudeville because I wasn’t smart enough at faking it; all I could do was the real thing.”

“I could be a Seeing Eye dog, maybe?”

“They have to be female.”

“When I’m changed I can understand animal language. Maybe I could be a dog trainer and—No, that’s out. I forgot: they’re scared to death of me.”

But Ozymandias’ pale-blue eyes had lit up at the suggestion. “Colleague, you’re warm. Oh, are you warm! Tell me: why did you say your fabulous Gloria was coming to Berkeley?”

“Publicity for a talent hunt.



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